"That's strange." A shard of uneasiness cut through David. Lynn always answered her phone, unless she didn't want to talk to the caller. He looked at his watch. "Come on, Sarah, let's get you signed in. I'm late for my lunch date with Roy." He led Sarah into the school, relieved to have that over. From now on, until the wedding, it should be clear sailing.
Total chaos reigned on the second floor of the Hotel Kensington. Lynn stood in the center of the uproar and surveyed the scene with satisfaction.
There were two hours left until show time. It had taken dozens of volunteers to accomplish, but the ballroom was ready for the
Eureka Springs Humane Society Evening of Fashion,
locally known as
The Doggy Style Show.
The hotel staff was busy placing the last of the chairs.
Early arrivals milled about, securing paddles with their bidding numbers, waiting to be allowed into the ballroom so they could be sure of good seats, up front.
Patrons shopped at sales tables placed against the walls, showing household goods, antique jewelry, and dozens of books and games.
She looked around the room for Sarah, and found her at the center of the confusion, amid the cacophony of barking dogs and shouting women, calmly dispensing advice, giving directions, and plainly loving every minute of it.
The previous night at rehearsal, her eye for fashion had become immediately apparent to the volunteers. Within the hour she became the go-to person, able to find the right clothing or jewelry. Tonight, everyone sought her out for solutions to any problem.
She's like my own daughter,
Lynn thought proudly.
"Sarah, Dumpling pulled off my earring and it's lost. Betty said you'd find something I can wear."
Glaring at the disgruntled Pekinese clutched under the woman's arm, Sarah nodded, eyeing the dress. "On the jewelry sales table in the ballroom there's a pair of long earrings made of Mardi Gras beads that will go with that."
"Sarah." She turned to see a woman coming toward her, holding up a skirt that dragged on the floor. "This skirt is too long. Janine said you knew where there was a belt I could use."
Sarah pointed. "The last hanger on the rack in the corner has a blue leather belt that goes with that skirt."
Another voice cried, "I just got here and I can't find my outfit. Someone said you knew where it is."
Lynn had to smile at Sarah's happy sigh as she found the source of the problem. "What number are you?"
"Fourteen."
"Go to that rack by the door and find the hanger with a tag that says 'fourteen.' That's your outfit."
It was almost curtain time. Lynn went up to Sarah and urged her to the door. "Honey, you have to hurry. Delon is waiting for you in room 210 to do makeup. You'd better get going. You girls are on first. You have about a half-hour."
They hurried down the hall to find Delon.
Emily and Karen were there. "You two look gorgeous," Sarah said. "Karen, your hair looks great." Delon had shortened it to shoulder-length, with bangs feathering gracefully across her forehead. "You have beautiful brown eyes." Turning to Emily, she said, "And you look so sophisticated. I love the way your hair is up with soft curls around your face."
"I do good work." A complacent Delon smiled with satisfaction. "Come here, sweetie, let me do a little mousse and put some blush on those gorgeous cheeks."
He fingered the necklace she had made from the casino chips. "I adore this. Casino chips. How clever."
"You have to bid on it, Delon."
Emily agreed. "Some lady came up to me in the hall and offered me fifty dollars for my Elvis shirt if I'd take it off and give it to her right there. I told her the same thing."
Lynn looked around, worried. "You got here just in time. We have to get in line about now. I haven't seen David and the guys. They'd better be here."
"Oh, wow," Karen cried, staring at the doorway where Anthony stood with Dakota and Logan. "Here they are. Look at them—so handsome." She waved her hand in the air and called, "Anthony, over here." He caught her eye, nodded, and led the group to her.
"Man," he said, surveying the crowd, "This place is amped. Awesome."
"Oh, Anthony," Karen sighed, "You're so handsome."
"Totally styll," Emily echoed, eyeing Dakota.
Lynn smiled at Dakota's expression—so very pleased with himself—and at the way Emily sparkled when she looked at him.
"You look like a movie star ready for the red carpet. I love it," Emily sighed.
"Mr. Martin tied my tie," Dakota said. "And Lynn gave us the carnations." He indicated the boutonnières the four of them wore.
"Where is my dad?" Sarah asked, looking for him.
Logan replied. "He'll be here. He's parking the car."
Sarah put her hands on Logan's shoulders. "You better remember that we're together when the girls out there see you. You'll be the best looking guy in the room."
His pleased blush made Lynn turn away so he couldn't see her smile.
"Hey, before I forget, I have an announcement." Emily waited until she had everybody's attention. "My parents are having a big backyard barbeque party tomorrow, Saturday evening, and they're inviting all the workers, cast and crew of the show and the Humane Society members, and you're all invited to come. My dad's cooking, and he's really good at it."
"You're talking about a lot of people," Dakota said.
"No worry," Emily replied. "We used to have big parties like this after the Pack games, back home."
David approached, his focus on Lynn. "Have you been avoiding me all day?" he said, taking her arm, making her meet his gaze. He smiled, teasingly. "You won't answer your phone. You're having trouble looking me in the eye. What's going on, Lynn?"
With anguish in her voice, she said, "I know, David. We have to talk, but not now. After the show. There's too much to do."
"This is about us, isn't it Lynn? Look at me."
She raised her face to his. "David, I have too much to do. We'll talk later." With that, she jerked her arm out of his grasp and fled across the room, not able to bear the fear in his eyes.
He followed, placing his hand on her shoulder and guiding her to a room at the end of the hall. He slid the key card into the slot and, as the door opened, pulled her inside the room. He was too fast for her to object.
"It belongs to a friend of mine. I told him I needed it for about an hour." Swiftly he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with soul-searing passion.
"God, Lynn, you haven't let me near you all day. I've felt you slipping away. You mean too much to me. These past weeks you've become my whole life. What's happened? You, Sarah, and me. We're going to be a family."
His words scraped at her heart like broken bits of glass—the pain unbearable. "David, stop. You have to listen… Oh, God, we can't talk about this here!"
His face paled. The stunned expression on his face conveyed his shock. "Lynn, what the hell craziness is in your head? You love me; you know you do. Don't say this."
"Please. Listen to me. It's not what you think." Feeling her resolve waver, she took his face in her hands—the pain in his eyes coming near to destroying her. She had to reassure him. "After talking to Sarah and her friends yesterday, I realized that there have been so many changes in the world in the past ten years. There are so many things young people have to be prepared to deal with and talking with Sarah and her friends made me realize I don't know anything about what they're dealing with. It's like I've slept through a whole decade and everything has changed."
"Honey," he said, trying to soothe her, "you're just worried because your life is going to change. Sarah needs you, a woman she can talk to. Only you know what it is like to be a woman today. You can give her love and understanding. She needs all those things you have so much of and can give."
"Sarah is at a serious crossroad in her life. She's going to be faced with important decisions about love, about sex, and about her future. She needs a mother who can give her advice. I'm so unsure; worried that I will say the wrong thing or make the wrong choices."
"That can't be all of it. There must be something you're not telling me. Come home with me tonight. Dakota's parents are taking everyone for pizza. We'll have time alone to talk this through."
I knew he wouldn't buy it. He's too intuitive. He can see right through me, but I'm not ready for what I suspect. Oh, God, what if I really am pregnant?
David's hands shook where he had them clamped to her arms. The devastation in his eyes ripped holes in her heart. She had to get through this before she lost her nerve. Tearing away from him, she backed up, raising her hand to keep him from following her. "David, I need time." She turned and fled from the room, knowing she would never forget his shocked, defeated expression.
The evening passed in a blur. She was barely aware of the laughter and triumph around her. The show was a success. Most of the outfits were sold. Emily was ecstatic. Her Elvis outfit brought seventy-five dollars—unheard of in a show where most bids were fifteen dollars or less.
'Shakespeare's Flowers' was a total sell-out, sending Sarah into orbit.
Lynn stayed in the dressing room for most of the show, aware that David, subdued, but hiding his distress, stood by the ramp, helping the models and directing the boys.
Occasionally she caught Sarah looking at her, worried, but unwilling to say anything. It was obvious to all that something terrible had happened between her and David.
With the last model dressed and on her way to the runway, Lynn escaped to her car, leaving the crew to close the show and take care of details. She was too disheartened to deal with any of it. The minute she got home, she crawled into bed, the tears finally coming. She lay there, curled into herself; wrenching sobs forced her to the bathroom several times to empty her nausea. How will she explain this to David? Sarah? Sarah, especially in light of the conversations she had with her and her friends that night.
The next morning Lynn stumbled into the kitchen after a sleepless night, emotionally exhausted from grief, her mind deadened with despair. An attempt to make coffee ended when she dropped the can of coffee, spilling most of it on the floor. It was too much. She collapsed into a chair, her head in her hands.
She'd thought calling it quits with David was the right decision, until she knew for sure, but she didn't realize how much she loved him and how terrible it would be to do without his love in return.
By eight o'clock she knew she was in no condition to work in the store, so she called Violet at home.
"Hey, girlfriend, what's up?"
Lynn would never get used to caller ID. She hated it.
"I don't feel well." Lynn heard the weariness in her voice and tried to lighten it so her friend wouldn't be too curious. "I'm not coming in today. You'll be able to handle it alone."
"You sound terrible. You coming down with something?" Violet had the instincts of a tabloid journalist scenting a story. "What's going on?"
"Nothing like a virus, I don't think. I'm just not up to being with people." Boy that sounded lame. She was a terrible liar.
"Not up to people?" Suspicion crept into Violet's voice. "Lynn, you sound like you've been crying."
"No. I just don't feel good. Look, I've got to use the bathroom. I'll call you later."
Immediately after hanging up she realized her mistake. Predictably, within fifteen minutes, Violet was at the kitchen door, demanding admittance, shouldering her way inside without being invited.
"I can't talk now."
"Oh, yes you can, girlfriend, and you're going to beginning right this minute. You look half-dead. Sure as hell you haven't slept. Your face is beyond red to purple, and if you don't shut your eyes, you're going to bleed to death. What's going on? This is looking like man trouble. What have you done?"
During her analysis, Violet poured two mugs of coffee Lynn didn't remember making, placed one in front of her, put two pieces of bread in the toaster, and sat across from Lynn at the table, waiting. The smells…
"Talk. What happened to you and David?"
"We had words." It came out as a forlorn cry, accompanied by more tears.
"You mean that miserable excuse for a worm in male clothing dumped you?"
"No," Lynn wailed, "It was me. I tried to explain it all to him and now he may never call me again."
For almost a second, Violet was speechless. "Allow me to re-phrase. In the grip of temporary insanity, you managed to hurt the most gorgeous, most romantic, and, not to belabor the point, eligible and rich man ever to walk the face of the earth, and clearly the only man you will ever love? You told him what? Why? What did he do?"
"Nothing. He didn't do anything." Her voice caught. Choking with grief, she barely managed to say, "Oh, Violet, when I left him in that hotel room, he just sat there with tears on his face."
"Woman, you are beyond help. Should I call the men in white coats to come and take you somewhere to get well, or should I simply beat some sense into you? What perverse logic led you to this decision? I want to hear it all, now."